Shades of Gray
by dattebayo1213
Summary: Companion Piece to You- The truth about why Hiashi hates Hinata.


Title: Shades of Gray

A/N: Something I came up with about the Hyuuga clan after a virtually sleepless night, a lot of sugar and way too much familial insanity. Turned into a companion piece for _You_, which, by the way, **you **should read too. :D

There was always a trade-off for a kekkei genkai. One did not receive powers like ours without any loss, for that would upset nature's preset balance. For the Sharingan, you lost your vision in proportion to how much you used it; for the unlucky few that possessed a demon, the demon ate away at their body, and caused them unimaginable pain every time they borrowed the demon's energy to keep themselves afloat. For us, the lucky few with the most powerful mutation in the world, we lost our colors. The minute a child activated their Byakugan, they became color blind—doomed to see everything and everyone in shades of gray for the rest of their life. Except me.

I, Hinata Hyuuga, was the first Hyuuga in generations to retain my color vision, able to see the blue of the sky and the sunshine yellow of my best friend's hair when Neji struggled to see anything but the black, white and grey his life unfolded in, reminiscent of an old black and white movie. And that is why Father resented me.

The elders told me Father had been an artist, just as I was now, and his paintings had been the pride of the clan, although they could not see the beautiful shades of colors that he had painted. But once he activated his Byakugan, his paintings became "careless" and "useless"… his clients complained that his animals would turn out the wrong colors, his sky would be a deep green instead of the usual blend of blues, and his fruits were improperly done. The elders forbade him to paint again, as a result of the shame he had brought on the family, although they were never able to see his mistakes either. And Father, who had already never accepted anything less than perfect for himself, hung up the mantle of an artist, and became who he is today, giving up his art, his joy for the sake of the clan… and himself.

So when my paintings and drawings stayed as accurate as before, once my Byakugan was activated, he grew resentful of me. He hated me for being able to keep the one thing he had excelled at, but gave up because he could not stand the rejection of others and the immense self-loathing that came with not knowing which tube was which color, when he had been using those tubes for years and years before. So I stopped showing him my drawings. I stopped bringing the drawings which I was so proud of. I had finally found something I was better than Neji at, and he did not wish to see it. So I showed them to Mother until she too was taken from me… and from him.

I drew my own landscapes, my wishes for Konoha's future—which, even at that young age, included a blond, whiskered Hokage on the mountain, smiling impishly as if in defiance of the stoic expressions carved onto the imposing face of rock. He was a special favorite of mine, and I'd bring my papers out to show him whenever we sat on what we both considered "our wall". "Brilliant!" He'd say excitedly, unable to control his own smile as he touched the paper lightly, as if he was afraid that his own fingers would tear through and ruin the "masterpiece" he said was my creation. And then he'd smile wider, and I'd accept his challenge, drawing a picture of his arrogant grin, the one that dared the world to fall at his feet and surrender. He lost that grin when I left him, among many other things.

And the reason I did? Father found my pictures of him, the pictures of us on the swing, the one of him with the baby turtle the two of us had saved long in the past, all of them. And he ripped them, along with my many others into shreds as he told me that I would never see that boy again. I cried, because I knew then that this was the end of my art. Just like Father, I knew I would never be able to draw as freely, and that my paintings would never garner the same appreciation or the same soft smile from the boy as they had before. And that was when I promised myself that I would never paint again until I found that boy's smile for him. A promise I knew I could keep.

A/N: Wow. Started off as something and turned into something else. Talk about weird. :D Anyway, please review. That's one thing I can NEVER have enough of.


End file.
